Son of The Morning Star
by EllisBelle
Summary: An unwelcome face from the past shows up to disrupt Barnabas' and Angelique's happiness


The Fine Print: I am not now, nor have I ever been, Dan Curtis. Therefore, I do not own Dark Shadows. Though sometimes I like to pretend that Angelique is mine. But that's just me. 

  
  


Son of the Morning Star

by EllisBelle

  
  


As moonlight flickered through the drawing room window, Barnabas Collins relaxed in front of the fire. His wife Angelique sat on the rug in front of him playing soldiers with their young son Bramwell. The small antique toy in Angelique's hand reminded him all too much of exactly how far they had come. He still remembered vividly the horrible, desperate feeling of choking, the surety that he would never draw another breath. An involuntary shudder ran over him at the memory. All caused by that little toy soldier. And Angelique's bitter jealousy over Josette. No, he had played a part in it all too. He had used her and rejected her. And all to be accepted by a father incapable of love. Not that it had done his family any good. They were all long dead now. It had taken him over a century to come to terms with his own culpability in the tragic fate of his family. It had taken him even longer to forgive Angelique for her role in all the death and destruction. 

Angelique's sudden laughter interrupted his thoughts. Barnabas watched as Bramwell showed his mother how he could make one of the soldiers do a silly little dance. Angelique's eyes seemed to come alive with laughter as she watched. Her beauty never ceased to amaze him. The way the firelight made her golden hair glow. Her eyes bluer than the oceans surrounding her Caribbean home. Even during all the years he had professed to hate her, he had found her astonishingly attractive. And that just made him want to throttle her all the more. All those years wasted. But now he had everything that he could possibly want. For the first time in his very long life, Barnabas Collins was content. No, he was genuinely happy. 

"You certainly are lost in your thoughts this evening, darling. Is anything bothering you?"

"Quite the contrary." He smiled warmly at Angelique as she stood up and attempted to straighten her clothes.

Still fussing with her skirt, Angelique said, "While I'm only too glad to be rid of those awful corsets, I don't know if I'll ever get used to these miniskirts. It's the only part of women's liberation that I don't find long over due."

Barnabas thought to himself that the miniskirt was definitely his favorite part of the women's movement but thought better of saying it out loud. Angelique had never been anything but liberated despite her years as Countess Dupres's maid. 

"It's time for bed, Bramwell," she said, looking down at her son. "Tell your father good night."

Bramwell reluctantly put away his toy soldiers and walked over to his father's chair. Barnabas lifted him up to sit on his knee. He was once again struck by how much Bramwell resembled him. The same dark hair that constantly fell across his pale forehead. The same stern set of his face. All except for his eyes. Bramwell's eyes were distinctly like his mother's, large and fiercely blue. Barnabas pulled his son close and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Will you read my bedtime story tonight, Daddy?" Bramwell asked. 

"I thought your mother was reading this book to you."

"But I want you to read it to me," Bramwell pleaded. Barnabas recognized that look of determination on his son's face. Bramwell had inherited that stubborn expression from Angelique as well. Glancing quickly up at his mother, Bramwell whispered to Barnabas, "Mommy scares me when she does the voices." 

Barnabas couldn't help but laugh at his son's admission. And at the look of shock on Angelique's face. "Well, I can see how your mother reading from the Brothers Grim could be frightening. Particularly the bits about that wicked old witch."

"Barnabas!" Angelique began. "You know I would never . . ."

"Of course, my love," Barnabas assuaged. "Bramwell," he said turning his attention back to the boy, "we shouldn't make fun of Mommy's old friends. It isn't nice."

"Honestly, Barnabas," returned Angelique. "Just wait until he's old enough to read Stoker."

Bramwell was confused by the exchange and interrupted his father's laughter, "Who are Mommy's friends? Does she know Hansel and Gretel?" 

"No one, sweetheart, your father is just teasing me." Angelique looked pointedly at Barnabas. "And now he's going to give you your bath and tuck you in." 

"Gladly," Barnabas said as he stood up with Bramwell in his arms. 

Just then, a loud knocking at the front door interrupted them. "Who could that be at this hour?" asked Barnabas. Angelique shook her head. They could both remember a time not so long ago when they would not have been surprised by visitors at this hour. In those days, Collinwood seemed to never sleep-there were far too many things going bump in the night. 

"I'll get it," Angelique said as she walked towards the door, "Willy's playing poker tonight." 

"So which story are we going to read tonight?" Barnabas asked as he stood in the drawing room with Bramwell. 

"No!!! You cannot be here!" Angelique's voice rang out through the house. Barnabas heard something in her voice that he rarely recalled detecting in the past--fear. 

Holding tightly to Bramwell, Barnabas rushed into the foyer to see who was at the door. "Angelique! What's wrong?" 

"Please. Just wait here," Angelique pleaded with whoever was standing outside. She shoved the heavy wooden door closed and locked it. Leaning with her back against it, she focused on Barnabas. "Take Bramwell upstairs, Barnabas," she demanded in an even, calm voice. Barnabas knew that something was terribly wrong. He knew all too well from experience that the normally passionate Angelique was truly dangerous when she spoke in that cold, flat tone. "Please, just take him upstairs."

He nodded at her and started up the stairs with Bramwell. When he reached the top of the staircase, Barnabas looked back down at his wife who was still standing at the door watching him. He saw naked fear in her eyes and for the first time in years he felt the familiar grip of terror starting to wrap around him. He turned his attention to Bramwell who was starting to become upset by the tension he sensed from his parents. 

"Now, how about we make a deal?" Barnabas cajoled as he entered the boy's room at the end of the hall. "If you go to sleep right now, I'll take you to the yards with me tomorrow and we can watch the big ships set out." Bramwell considered the proposal while Barnabas helped him change into his pajamas. 

Finally, as Barnabas pulled the covers up over him, Bramwell answered, "Okay, but I want you to read me two stories tomorrow night." 

"I promise," said Barnabas before smoothing a lock of errant hair from his son's forehead and kissing him goodnight again. Barnabas made sure to leave a small lamp burning because Bramwell was sometimes afraid of the dark. So far, all his monsters had only been imaginary. Barnabas prayed that was all they ever would be as he locked the door behind him and headed downstairs. 

From the foyer, he heard Angelique's angry voice and another unmistakably familiar voice, one he had hoped to never hear again.

"Nicolas Blair," Barnabas said coldly as he stood in the doorway to the drawing room. "Get out of my house."

"Now, now, Barnabas. That's no way to treat your long lost brother-in-law," mocked Blair. He grinned evilly at Barnabas. He still looked like a well dressed Pied Piper, with his rakish eyebrows and his greying temples.

"I said to leave, Blair."

"Really. Are you this rude to all your relatives?" he continued. "What do you see in him, sister dear?" he asked turning his gaze on Angelique.

Barnabas crossed the room to stand near his wife who was now advancing on Blair. "How are you here, Nicolas?" demanded Angelique. "We destroyed you." 

"Ahhh, yes," he chuckled then started to wonder about the room. "Well, we all know how well your curses work, don't we?" He looked meaningfully at Barnabas. "Your husband's looking almost suntanned, my dear. And decidedly alive. So much for that vampire curse, huh?" 

"That curse was a terrible mistake and I lifted it," yelled Angelique. "Now, leave us be!"

"Really, Angelique, such hostility. Perhaps you should see a therapist," he said. "Oh, that's right, the local shrink is yet another one of your husband's girlfriends. How is dear old Dr. Hoffman?" he spat, rounding on them. 

"Julia Hoffman is none of your business, Blair," returned Barnabas. 

Nicolas Blair shook his head and made a tut-tut sound. He looked up at Angelique as he trailed his gloved hand along the edge of the mantel. He could tell that he had hit a nerve with her. "Looks like you still have reason to be jealous, my dear." He lifted his hand and saw dust on his fingertips. "And it looks as if you need a new maid." He shook his head again in disappointment before chuckling. "I thought you were a better housekeeper than this, Angelique. I guess you were as bad a maid as you were a witch."

Angelique was seething. It had humiliated her to play the maid in Martinique and Nicolas knew it. "You are about to learn all about my powers as a witch, Nicolas," she threatened. 

"Angelique," warned Barnabas pulling her back towards him by her elbow. 

"Yes, Angelique," teased Nicolas, "best not forget about that promise you made to hubby. You know how testy he gets about those things."

"How do you know about my promise?"

"I have my sources," he answered mysteriously.

"What do you want, Nicolas? You obviously didn't come here just to exchange insults with us," said Barnabas. 

"Can't a brother just come for a friendly visit with his only sister?" asked Nicolas with feigned innocence. Barnabas and Angelique just starred coldly at him. "I do want something from you, you're right." He paused. 

"Out with it, Blair," commanded Barnabas. 

"I want your son."

"Bramwell?" whispered Angelique stunned. 

"He is the only child you have, isn't he?" said Blair. 

"What do you mean, you want Bramwell?" asked Barnabas angrily.

"The Master has taken an interest in the boy," Nicolas explained. "You really should be quite flattered. It isn't every day that your child is chosen to be the gateway by the Master himself." 

"I assure you we are not flattered," said Barnabas. "My son isn't going to have anything to do with you or your Master." 

"Get out," ordered Angelique quietly. She had been standing, starring at the floor, while the two men argued, but now she looked directly at the warlock who called himself her brother. "Now."

"I'll leave," said Nicolas, "but only because I have a date at the Blue Whale with that lovely Maggie Evans creature." Barnabas and Angelique made no move to hinder him. "I'll just show myself out then, shall I?" When he reached the door, he called towards the drawing room, "I'll be by tomorrow to collect my nephew. If you even try to stop me, I'll destroy the entire Collins family." The sound of the door slamming echoed throughout the house. 

"What could Blair possibly want with Bramwell? He's just a little boy," asked Barnabas. Angelique sank down into Barnabas's chair and buried her face in her hands. Barnabas still paced before her. "Do you have any idea what Blair is plotting? Why does he want Bramwell? Angelique, if you know something, answer me." When she still didn't answer him, he knelt down in front of her and pulled her hands down into his own. He looked in her eyes for a moment, searching for an answer. "You know what he wants, don't you."

Angelique nodded. "Yes, the gateway. He wants to use Bramwell as the gateway."

"I don't understand. What's the gateway?"

"I didn't think it would ever actually be possible again. The Master has been looking for the gateway for millennia. You see, the gateway is a sort of bridge between Hell and Earth. The Master cannot actually leave Hell--he's been locked away for thousands of years. The only way he can leave is through the gateway." 

Barnabas had begun to pace around the room as he listened to her explanation. He stopped in front of her now and asked, "How do we prevent this? Is there anyway that we can fight Nicolas Blair? We've beaten him before. How do we do it again?"

"I really don't know. I could try to use my magic against him," she began, "but I don't think it will do any good. Nicolas is more powerful than I have ever seen him. I felt it when I opened the door tonight. The Master has given him tremendous power." She brought her hand to her forehead for a moment then rose determinedly out of the chair, "But I'm going to try. Right now." 

She left Barnabas standing silently in the drawing room. She hated breaking her promise to him but she refused to let Bramwell be sacrificed. She walked through the dusty corridors until she came to her old room in the servants' quarters. The door creaked as she pushed it open. She went to the large steamer trunk in the corner and lifted out a small wooden box. Angelique wiped the dust off its lid, running her finger over its intricate engravings, before clutching it to her chest and leaving the room.

When she reached the drawing room again, Barnabas was gone. He must be upstairs, she thought. He doesn't want to see me do this. Does he really hate my magic enough to risk losing our son? Pushing her thoughts about Barnabas out of her mind, Angelique knelt before the fire with the wooden box in front of her. She opened it reverently and took out a small lump of clay which she soon expertly molded into the figure of a man. Staring deeply into the flickering embers of the fire, she summoned up all her powers. Chanting under her breath, she called upon all of the spirits that she had ever controlled. The fire leapt as she concentrated on one single thought--destroying Nicolas Blair. She crushed the clay totem in her fist. 

Across town at the Blue Whale, Nicolas Blair suddenly seized over in pain. "Nicolas!" called Maggie Evans as she rushed around the table. "Nicolas, are you okay? What's the matter?" she asked frantically. 

Just as suddenly as it had appeared, the pain slipped away and Nicolas took a sip from his drink and smiled reassuringly at Maggie. "Sorry, my dear. Just a tiresome bit of heartburn. Nothing to worry about." 

Back at Collinwood, Angelique felt a sudden shift in the flow of the powers throughout the room. They suddenly reversed against her, filling her every pore with agonizing pain until she blacked out.

Barnabas was on his way downstairs when he heard his wife cry out in pain. He ran into the room to find Angelique unconscious on the floor. Barnabas fell down beside her. "Angelique! Angelique, wake up!" She didn't respond, but he was relieved to find that she was still breathing, although shallowly. He lifted her up in his arms and carried her upstairs to their bedroom. He laid her carefully down on the bed and pulled a blanket up over her. He quickly headed back downstairs to the Old House's only telephone. Barnabas wished that he did not have to bring Julia into all of this, but she was the only person he knew that could help right now. Julia Hoffman had tirelessly patched up the Collins family for years, nursing them through everything from vampire bites to werewolf attacks. She was Barnabas's best friend and knew almost as many of his secrets as Angelique did. But he wouldn't lose his family. Not after all the years that it had taken to bring them together at last. He reached Julia at home and explained the night's events. Elliot Stokes was with her. He found that odd but did not think to question her. Stokes said that he knew something of the myth surrounding the gateway. The two of them were on their way to Collinwood. 

When Barnabas again reached his bedroom door, he heard voices from within. He was surprised to see Angelique sitting up in bed talking to Bramwell. "You were asleep when I looked in on you a few minutes ago." Angelique and Bramwell looked up at Barnabas when they heard him speak. He came to them and sat down on the edge of the bed. 

"The monsters woke me up again," Bramwell explained. He rubbed his eyes sleepily and settled back in bed against his mother. 

"They're all gone now, sweetheart," Angelique soothed although she knew that was anything but true. 

"And how are you feeling?" Barnabas asked her.

"I'll be fine."

"I've called Julia and Elliot. They should be here in an hour or so. I want her to take a look at you."

"Good old loyal Dr. Hoffman," she said bitterly.

"Stop it. Now is not the time for petty jealousies," he said a bit too harshly. He could see Angelique's mouth setting in a hard line and knew that she was becoming angry. "You know there is nothing between Julia and I except friendship." He took her hand and turned it over, kissing her palm. "You have nothing to be jealous of. I love you and only you." She smiled at this. They both looked down at Bramwell who had fallen asleep again. "Do you want me to take him back to his own room?"

"No, I want him here with me." 

Barnabas scooted back against the head board and watched Bramwell sleep, while he ran his fingers through Angelique's hair. Soon she had fallen asleep as well. 

He went downstairs without waking them when he heard a car pull up outside. He opened the door to find Julia Hoffman and Elliot Stokes anxiously waiting on the other side. 

"Julia, Elliot. Thank you for coming."

"How is Angelique?" Julia asked, always a doctor first, despite her dislike of the former witch. 

"She says she is fine, but she looks very tired," Barnabas answered. He was about to tell Julia that she could find her upstairs when he heard Angelique's voice from the landing.

"Barnabas said that you know something about the gateway, Professor Stokes. How can we stop Nicolas?"

Before Stokes could answer, Barnabas had rushed to her side. "Should you be up?"

"I've told you that I'm fine," she said, taking his arm and walking into the drawing room. "And I'm sure Dr. Hoffman would agree with me." She turned to look at Julia who stammered under the blonde's intense gaze.

"Yes, well," she began, "I'll have to take a look at you first." Julia joined Angelique on the settee and proceeded to give her a quick, cursory exam.

Professor Stokes began to tell the group what he knew about the gateway. His explanation was much like Angelique's had been.

"Yes, we know all that," she interrupted, "but do you know how to prevent it?"

"Perhaps. Some of the ancient texts that I have read mentioned a strange talisman called the Morning Star. It seems that it was used to close the gateway the last time it was opened."

"This gateway has been opened before?" Julia asked in disbelief. 

Angelique answered her before Elliot had a chance. "Yes, it was opened four thousand years ago during the time of Christ." Julia's eyes widen in surprise.

"She's right," Elliot continued. "The early apostles were able to use the stone to amplify their power somehow to close the gateway."

"Where is the Morning Star at now, Elliot?" Barnabas inquired hopefully.

"It's last known whereabouts were in Cairo. But that was around the turn of the century." Barnabas walked into the hallway and picked up the phone.

"Who are you calling?" asked Angelique.

"The only person I know who has had contacts with the Egyptian occult market for the last century."

"Quentin," Angelique and Julia answered at the same time.

"Do you think he'll still be up?" Julia asked the woman beside her.

"If he knows that Maggie Evens is out with Nicolas Blair, he's sure to be waiting up for her."

Barnabas came back into the room and sat down in his chair. "Quentin is calling his contacts as we speak. He'll let us know as soon as he finds out anything."

Tediously long hours crept by before a knock at the door disturbed the oppressive silence that had fallen over the drawing room. Julia Hoffman went to the door and was relieved to see the handsome face of Quentin Collins. "I found it," he blurted out as soon as he had entered. 

"Where is it?" 

"Well, Cousin. We are in luck. A private collector has it in New York."

"How do we get it?" Barnabas asked.

"I can make him give it to us," Angelique offered, "I still have ways."

Quentin chuckled and shook his head. "I remember your ways, Angelique and I don't think that's necessary. This man wants cash and lots of it." He turned to face Barnabas. "Now Caroline and I have put together everything that we have liquid; I'm hoping you'll have the rest. I didn't want to bring Elizabeth and Roger into it until I found out." 

"Of course, come with me, Quentin," Barnabas answered as he led Quentin into the basement.

Quentin insisted on going to New York himself. Thanks to a large sum of money and the Collins name, he was able to charter a flight into JFK. 

*************************************************************

Even throughout all his time as a vampire, Barnabas had never dreaded a sunrise quite as much as he dreaded this one. He stood looking out the window as the rest of the house woke up and came downstairs. He and Angelique had spent the night watching over Bramwell. 

Willie had come home at last and was fixing breakfast for everyone. Angelique had been hidden away upstairs most of the morning trying to work out some sort of protective spell to put around Bramwell in case Quentin didn't make it back in time.

After breakfast, they all settled into the drawing room, trying to keep some semblance of normalcy to their routine for Bramwell's sake. While his Aunt Julia read aloud to him, Bramwell was curled up between his mother and her on the sofa. Barnabas thought that he could almost forget about the drama facing them.

"Isn't this a cozy little scene?"

No one had heard Nicolas Blair enter the room, but there he stood, larger than life.

He approached Bramwell, extending his hand. "I don't believe we have ever been introduced, young man. I'm your Uncle Nicolas." 

Bramwell recoiled instinctively behind Angelique.

"Stay away from him, Nicolas," she warned.

"Or you'll put another hex on me like you did last night?" he asked with a laugh. "Hardly leaves me shaking in my boots."

By this time, the group were on their feet, forming a sort of protective circle around Bramwell. 

"Such solidarity," mocked Nicolas. "Pity it won't do you any good."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that, Blair."

Nicolas turned to face the newcomer standing behind him. "Ahh, the illustrious Quentin Collins. And just how do you plan to stop me? If my sister over there couldn't harm me, you certainly won't be able to."

"I think she might be able to this time, Blair," Quentin said as he held the talisman out in his hand. "I have it, Angelique." 

Nicolas wasn't sure what Quentin was talking about, but he was growing tired of his interference. With a wave of his hand, he sent Quentin sprawling into the wall, leaving a crack in it in the process. The blow would have killed any other man. Luckily, Quentin was immortal thanks to his Dorian Grey-like painting. He would heal, but the force left him unconscious for now. 

Angelique shoved past Nicolas to get to Quentin. She knew the Morning Star was their only chance of saving Bramwell. As soon as she was distracted, Nicolas sent Barnabas flying into the sofa. He snatched Bramwell away from Julia's grasp. By the time Angelique had the talisman in her hand, Nicolas had a dagger pressed against the frightened boy's throat. 

"You can't stop me now," Nicolas spat at her. "Why don't you just cooperate? The Master is sure to let you back into his good graces if you set him free."

"I am done with the Master once and for all," she returned. "Now let my son go."

Bramwell started to squirm in Nicolas's arms. The blade of the knife cut into his throat causing a thin line of blood to swell under it.

"No!" Angelique's hands clinched fist fulls of her skirt and she began to shake. Blood began to drip from her hands as her finger nails dug through the material and into her palms. She was mumbling something under her breath in a language that he didn't recognize. Furniture around the room started to shudder. Angelique's chanting grew louder and louder until it seemed to fill the room and reverberate off the walls. Vases and paintings crashed to the floor as the whole house quaked beneath them. The window shattered, sending a shower of glass across the room. 

Nicolas screamed in terror and threw Bramwell to the floor. The warlock seemed to break into a thousand bits of light and then to fold in on himself, disappearing with a rushing sound.

Angelique sank to her knees. She looked up just long enough to see Julia putting a handkerchief over Bramwell's neck, before darkness swallowed her.

***************************************************************

Angelique heard Barnabas's voice somewhere in the distant fog. Then Bramwell's. She slowly opened her eyes. She was in her bedroom. She followed the sound of the voices until she saw Barnabas sitting with Bramwell curled up in his lap. They were reading from Grim's again. She heard Bramwell complaining, "You don't do the voices as well as Mommy. You don't sound anything like a witch."

"I'll just have to do until your mother gets better. Besides, your mother has had more practice than I have at playing the wicked witch."

Angelique smiled to herself, comforted and fell asleep once again. 


End file.
